


Impasse

by dramatic owl (snarky_panda)



Series: Long Way Home [4]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_panda/pseuds/dramatic%20owl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sam leaps back to the Project, a conversation with Beth reveals that things aren’t going so well for those he left at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impasse

**Author's Note:**

> Again, many many thanks go to [cecilegrey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilegrey/pseuds/cecilegrey) for the beta. Written for the LJ 5_times challenge prompt: nightmare. Disclaimer: Not mine, just this story.

  
_**New Mexico** _   
_**May 23, 2005** _   


I

As things began to materialize around him and the disorientation from leaping passed, Sam was immediately seized by a sense of déjà vu. He was inside, in a place lit only by moonlight, standing beside a large window looking out on a hauntingly familiar landscape – vast, open and flat except for the mountains and rock formations off in the distance. One formation in particular caught his eye for it was glowing with blue light and pulsating with energy.

"Ziggy?"

_I'm home!_

It was too good to be true and he was sure it wasn't permanent. This was another leap and he was here for a specific purpose, after which he would leap out again. At that moment, as if to confirm his assumption, he heard muffled shouting off in the distance and noticed several dark figures swarming about the building nestled between the monolithic rocks that housed Project Quantum Leap. He had no idea what was going on but a terrible sense of foreboding pervaded him. Something was wrong at the project and he needed to get over there.

"Al?"

A woman's voice, familiar, filled with anxiety. He turned with a start, realizing that he was standing inside of someone else's living room, the outline of a couch, chairs, a wall unit now taking shape before his eyes. There was a click as a switch was flipped and the room lit up.

"Sam?"

Startled, Sam blinked at the figure that had appeared from somewhere deep inside the house and stood in the doorway.

"It really is you."

"Beth!"

Beth Calavicci knew him. She rushed forward and threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace warmly.

"Of all the times for you to finally come home," she whispered. "How are you, Sam?"

"Fine, all things considered," he said ruefully. He pulled back, gently clasping her forearms, and looked into her face. She appeared haggard and drawn, her usual lovely smile tense as she studied his face, too.

"But you're not really home, are you? This is just another leap."

"I'm sorry." Still, he thought he saw a glimmer of hope beneath her crestfallen expression.

"It's been exactly five years since they lost you, Sam. Ten since you first leaped. When are you going to just come home and stay?"

"Five _years_?" Had it been that long since he'd been leaping on his own? Or was he in the future?

She nodded and led him lightly by the arm toward the seating around the coffee table. As he took in the details of the warm, comfortable living room – the lovely Persian area rug with geometric designs in light earthy colors, the brown wood furniture pieces and black leather seating, a vase of calla lilies and family photos on the mantel of the grey stone fireplace – the memories began to fill in, memories of weekends and evenings spent in the large ranch house with Al and Beth and their four little girls, who all called him Uncle Sam. Odd memories that he'd lived pre-leap…and yet hadn't.

"It's been a long time."

"Yeah," he said wistfully. "It has been."

They sat down together on the long couch.

"What day is it?"

"Monday." She realized what he meant and added, "May 23rd, 2005. You disappeared on May 23rd, 2000."

Sam started at the mention of the current year. He was remembering a leap into Rio two years earlier in which he was there to help Al and his family – and discovered that the timeline had been altered so that he and Al never met. Through his conversation with the friend that didn't know him anymore he learned that Beth had passed away in 2001, a few years after the two of them split up. Since then he'd managed to change things, so that he and Al _had_ met and worked on the project together, Beth and Al never divorced and Beth's life had been saved. A ripple effect from only one change that he was aware of making - he didn't know exactly how it happened, only that the reality had changed and the memories were there. And there was a leap for Trudy…

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam said, shaking his head. "How is Trudy?"

It was Beth's turn to look surprised. "Fine. All the girls are fine."

"Is she still traveling?"

"I didn't know you heard about her traveling. Trudy wasn't even talking about it until after you were gone. But yes, she's still moving from one faraway place to another. She returns to specific places that she likes and where she has friends, and she comes home to visit, which makes us happy. She's been taking more permanent jobs, too. Right now she's living and working as an English teacher in Shanghai."

He smiled. "That's great."

Beth was studying him searchingly, probably wondering where his question had come from.

"May 23rd. You remember the exact date."

She averted her eyes, staring at her hands for a moment before looking up to meet his gaze again. "I'll always remember the exact date. You know, I've always wondered if maybe I didn't do the right thing. Al doesn't blame me but still, I feel responsible in a way."

"Why?" He was astonished that she could even think such a thing. "Why would you feel responsible?"

"Without anyone in the waiting room there's been no way to even locate and keep track of you, yet alone establish contact."

"Yes, I realize that," he said with remorse.

"And I knew before it happened that it would, that you would stop switching places with people."

He stared in unbelief. "You remember?"

"Would you like some coffee or tea?"

The abrupt change of subject startled him. "Oh, uh, I don't want to inconvenience you."

"You're not." She sighed and rose to her feet. "I can't sleep anyway. I was about to make myself tea when I heard…I thought maybe you were Al. But it's good to see you. Tea or coffee?"

"Tea is fine," he said absently.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll just go put the water on to boil."

Troubled he stared after her as she disappeared into the kitchen. Something had gone wrong, Al was involved and Beth was left behind alone and worried. His stomach clenched and he suddenly became aware of how eerily silent the house was, how thick and heavy the air. Even Beth's movements in the kitchen seemed oddly muted. He stood quickly and returned to the window, gazing off at the dark silhouettes moving frantically against the bright glow of the mountain. Idly he thought of the neural link he had with Ziggy and wondered if she knew of his presence here now.

"I remember you like orange spice tea."

He turned at the sound of her voice and went over to take the tray she was carrying.

"No, no, I'm fine. Please sit."

Beth set everything down on the coffee table and slid his cup toward him. Sam didn't have the heart to tell her that she hadn't put a teabag in his water, nor was there any sign of one anywhere on the tray, but the gaffe confirmed for him just how distraught she was.

She sat down on the couch beside him again and picked up her own cup of plain hot water, taking a sip and wincing. "Oh, God!" she exclaimed flustered, nearly dropping it on the table. "I forgot the teabags. I'll be right back."

"It's okay." Sam tried to catch her arm as she stood but she moved off swiftly. He brought his hand up and ran it over his face, his concern growing by the minute.

"Stupid," she muttered when she returned. She handed him a packet of orange spice then proceeded to steep her own cup of jasmine. He set the teabag on the table unopened and leaned toward her.

"Beth, what's wrong? What's going on over at the project? Who are all those people?"

"They're M.P.s. The funding to the project was cut." She stopped to wring the water out of her teabag then dropped it onto her saucer. "Actually it was cut almost a year ago but Al managed to stall them. Then a few weeks ago they completely pulled the plug, gave everyone until the end of this month to clear out and directed the M.P.s to make sure everyone was out and seize it all. Al thinks they want to dismantle everything so they can learn to build another hybrid computer like Ziggy. Or they're trying to at least. My husband said they'd do it over his dead body and staged an old-fashioned sit-in to stop them."

"What?"

"You picked a hell of a time to show up, Sam. I should have known," she remarked acerbically, mouth twisted into a bitter half-smile. "Al shut himself in there two days ago and had Ziggy lock the place down so no one, M.P.s or staff, can get in."

Sam felt his jaw drop. He couldn't even begin to fathom what could have possessed Al to do something so reckless and downright stupid. Surely he realized that it would accomplish nothing but landing him in jail.

"How did he manage to get everyone out? Someone must have realized what he was planning to do…I mean, there were M.P.s working there as security who must have been watching…" He trailed off, noticing how uncomfortable Beth appeared at the moment. She wouldn't look at him, instead staring into her cup. "Beth?"

"Everyone was preoccupied with getting out of the building because of the potential disaster," she finally said.

"Potential disaster? What potential disaster?"

She took a few sips of tea before answering. "The one Ziggy made up."

Sam leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands with a groan. "What happened?"

"I only know that Ziggy alerted the entire project about a leak and ordered everyone to evacuate. Something about potentially dangerous fumes."

"And?" he coaxed, straightening and looking her in the eye again.

"No one had any reason to doubt it and they were busy getting out without panicking," she said with a shrug. "Nobody bothered to check whether there actually _was_ any leak…or where Al was. As soon as everyone was out, Ziggy locked everything down with Al safe in the control room."

"So Ziggy lied." Sam was stunned. "I don't believe it. I never programmed Ziggy to lie."

"No, but you programmed her to learn. She and Al have spent a lot of time together since you've been gone, Sam. Al always said she's an apt pupil of human nature. I'm sure she's learned a lot of things from him."

"Like how to lie." He sighed, slowly shaking his head with a grimace. If he got anywhere near Al tonight he was going to wring his neck. That thought propelled him to his feet again and he paced back to the window to stare out at the project. He couldn't bring himself to turn away and look at Beth when he asked the next question on his mind, the words sour in his mouth. "Beth, is Al drinking again?"

"I haven't smelled alcohol on his breath," she retorted sharply.

It occurred to Sam that even if she knew Al was drinking she wouldn't tell him. Whatever the cost she was protecting her husband.

"Where are the others? Gooshie—"

"Sam." The deeply somber note in her voice seized his attention and he turned to her. She'd twisted in her seat to face him and her expression was grief-stricken. "Oh, God, Sam, I'm sorry. Gooshie died last year."

"What?"

"He had cancer. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way."

Sam's shoulders sagged and he slumped back against the frame of the window, leaning on it for support, his thoughts turning to the absentminded, brilliant little head programmer who was his friend. He buried his face in his hands. How could he have allowed himself to miss all this? And how had things gotten so out of hand?

"There was nothing you could have done," she said, attempting to comfort him, "even if you were here."

His hands dropped to his sides again. "I'm a doctor, I might have seen something, something that would have helped them catch it sooner."

"No." She shook her head vigorously. "It wouldn't have made a difference. He had stomach cancer and the prognosis was just not good from the start."

"God, he must have suffered."

"The last days were difficult. But Tina took good care of him and up until the end he was surrounded by friends who loved him."

_Except for me._

He pushed aside the guilt beginning to weigh on him and straightened, forcing his attention back to the present matter. "What about everyone else? Bena—"

"Al's alone in there."

"Can you reach him? You've gotta talk him out of this. This is ridiculous and it won't end well. God, I can't believe he's doing something this—this stupid!"

Anger, disappointment, confusion and concern were all warring within him and he began to pace restlessly.

"You're convinced that _I_ can talk him out of it?" Beth shook her head and laughed resignedly, sadly. "You obviously forgot at least one thing about Al since you last saw him. Once he's made up his mind about something that's it. In certain ways he can be as stubborn as you are. Besides, things are already out of hand."

"I'll say," he said through gritted teeth. "How long does he think he can keep this up? Eventually he'll run out of food and water, if the M.P.s don't get in there first." He paused. "Are you in contact with him?"

Beth didn't answer but he knew. They probably didn't speak over the telephone. Even a cell phone would be too easy to trace. But Al would have worked something out so they could stay in contact, maybe through Ziggy. He couldn't imagine that Al would shut Beth out completely…

"You are." He strode back to the couch and sat so he would be eye level with her. "Beth, you gotta—"

"It doesn't matter. Sam, no one knows better than me that Al has completely lost it and this entire fiasco is futile. The last desperate act of a desperate man." A frightened expression flickered over her face and he felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"I've gotta get out there." He rose once more but she stopped him with a firm hand on his arm.

"No, it won't do any good. Yesterday Ziggy zapped several of the M.P.s with electricity when they got into the elevator to try to reach the lower levels, on Al's order. If they get in there and find him, he's finished."

Sam sank back down onto the couch and stared open-mouthed at her. "I can't believe it. Has Al lost his mind?"

A half-laugh, half-sob emerged from her. "All I know is Al hasn't been the same since you vanished, Sam, and I don't know what to do for him anymore. He hasn't really been the same since you first leaped ten years ago – he stopped sleeping or eating well and he kept dropping weight. But after they lost contact with you completely…" she trailed off, shaking her head. Her voice was raw with despair when she uttered her next words, cutting through his heart like a dagger. "He was inconsolable."

This couldn't all be because of him, his leaping. It just couldn't. Something else was going on.

"Beth, listen to me," he pleaded. "Al doesn't need to do this. He doesn't need to ruin his career or his life over this project."

_He's supposed to be free, enjoying his life with you._

"Sam, it's not the project or his career. Al misses his best friend. He needs _you_. Don't you understand?"

He could only stare at her.

"We all want you back. You're here now but you're not permanently back in the present, if this even is your present. And they need the project in order to have any chance of retrieving you. Don't they? That's why Al won't let them shut it down. Not while there's a missing man. Besides, he's protecting Ziggy. They'd be dismantling a sentient being. Sam, for nearly five years he and D—the others have kept trying to find you."

"All this time they've been trying to find me?"

"Of course!" Her tone was almost cross. "Why would you even need to ask that? Did you really expect them to give up on you? Al is going to do whatever it takes to find you and bring you home."

There was no doubt in Sam's mind what the purpose of this leap was. What he didn't understand was why he'd leaped here instead of inside the project. He needed to talk to his friend, to put a stop to this and make Al understand that he wasn't to blame. That he needed to let it go, let _him_ go...

The full meaning of Beth's words suddenly sank in and he gasped as understanding blazed through him.

"No," he half-whispered. "He didn't…he wouldn't…"

"I hope not," she murmured but her expression told him he was too late. And she knew what her husband had been planning.

"You knew. Why didn't you stop him?"

"Because it wouldn't make a difference. I already lost my husband long before tonight." Her voice broke. "He spends his days and most of his nights in that damn imaging chamber. Sometimes he doesn't come home at all. Especially lately. He kept saying he was getting close. I guess he was right. You're here now."

"Oh, God. Beth, Al isn't responsible. It's me. I'm the one who's choosing to leap, it's always been me. I didn't know it, not at first. But then there was one leap where I started to leap as myself. That's when I discovered it. And even then I didn't believe it right away…" He trailed off as he caught the look of utter disbelief on Beth's face.

"You _chose_ not to come home? You don't want to come home?"

"It's not that I don't want to come home. It's that I chose to keep leaping. I do want to come home, very much. But there are so many—"

"You chose not to come home?"

"I chose to keep leaping, to help—"

"You chose not to come home," she repeated.

Her face had darkened and he knew he was in trouble.

"That's probably shocking—"

Despite her obvious anger Beth's expression suddenly softened inexplicably and her voice was even and quiet when she spoke. "No, Sam, that isn't shocking. It doesn't surprise me at all that you would want to keep helping people, or that you would sacrifice your own happiness and comfort to do it. That's always been your nature, for as long as I've known you. What's shocking to me is that you could be so thoughtless and inconsiderate of the people in your own life who love you."

As softly spoken as they were, those last words were like a hammer hitting him between the eyes.

"If you're in control and you didn't want to come home, why didn't you at least leap back and tell everyone five years ago? That they didn't need to waste their time and energy looking for you? Al has been assuming that you _wanted_ to come home. So has everybody else. How could you just disappear and leave everybody wondering and worrying for so many years? Your family, your friends. I don't understand."

Her next words were a bullet striking.

"I don't understand how you could do that to Donna."

_Donna!_

"At least when Al was M.I.A. you leaped in and assured me that he was alive and that he was coming home eventually. You gave me the hope I needed to hold on. And that _still_ didn't make it easy or less lonely. Donna doesn't even have that…"

Beth wasn't nearly finished with what she had to say but Sam heard no more of it.

II

"Here."

Beth set a glass of water down on the coffee table then perched beside him and watched him with concern. He was slumped against one corner of the couch, head propped up against his hand, his thoughts spinning.

"Are you all right?"

Sam only vaguely nodded in response. He was too overwhelmed to speak.

"I didn't mean for it to come out this way, Sam. I was upset. It's been hard for all of us to watch her…sometimes it hurts me just to look at her. She misses you so much. And I…I miss my husband. Again. But it wasn't fair of me. I'm sorry."

"No," he said, finding his voice. "You have no reason to be sorry."

Slowly he straightened up and looked at her, a question in his eyes.

"Al never told you because Donna explicitly forbade him from reminding you about her."

"How?" he lamented. "How could I have forgotten her?"

"Leaping."

"But why didn't I remember her at some point?" he insisted, anguished. "I eventually remembered that I had a sister and a brother. I remembered everyone else at the project, without Al reminding me. And once I started leaping as myself I remembered everything…I thought it was everything. God, what's wrong with me? Why didn't I remember my wife?"

"I don't know, Sam. Al never understood it. I didn't either. Maybe it was necessary that you not remember her, so you could do what you needed to in the leaps. It's what Donna thought, and that's why while Al was still in contact with you she wouldn't let him remind you about her. She wanted to make sure that nothing interfered with your mission, as difficult as that was for her. So you'd be able to do what you had to and finally come home. I guess we all should have realized it would never be finished, that you'd never come home. There will always be something wrong that needs to be put right. And your nature, you'll always want to do something about it."

Tears spilled from his eyes and he hung his head. "I'm a jerk."

"You're a kind, compassionate, caring man with a good heart and the best intentions always. You just…lost sight of certain things and you left a little bit of a mess behind at home."

"That Al's been cleaning up," he bit out.

Beth touched his shoulder comfortingly and he raised his head again.

"Have some water," she said gently, gesturing to the glass in front of him.

Sam obeyed mechanically.

"Al never blamed you for any of it. At first he was angry when you stepped into the accelerator before everything was ready…that you went behind his back when he wasn't there. But he got over it. He could never stay angry with you. He really believed in the project, and in you…he still does."

"I don't know why," he said, shaking his head. "I'll never know why he had…still has so much faith in me. He believed in me when no one else did."

She took his free hand in hers. "And you him."

He nodded.

"But I don't think he counted on losing you forever, Sam."

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't…I never imagined things would unravel like this."

"I know." She squeezed his hand. "Sam, I'll always be truly grateful for the hope you gave me that day in 1969, hope that I desperately needed."

"You remember, and you recognized me."

"Tonight isn't the first time you've appeared in my living room and you had the same shock of white in your hair in 1969 as you did when I met you in 1982, as you have now. I can only guess what you changed then." She shuddered visibly but then seemed to push off the thought. "But that hope you gave me was a precious gift. I'm sorry I was so harsh with you. I'm upset for Donna but I shouldn't have sprung things on you this way. I'm sorry."

"No, you had every right to be upset." He took a deep breath. "Do you have any other surprises for me?"

There was something in her expression that told him she did. But she didn't answer, apparently choosing not to share it. Maybe she felt he'd already had enough shocks for one night. Instead she released his hand and stood, taking up the tray with the cups and the unused teabag. Sam rose too and followed her into the warm yellow and white kitchen, past the large round table to the sink at the far end.

"Where…" he stopped and licked his dry lips. His heart was in his throat. "Where is Donna now?"

She busied herself with pouring out the remaining contents of the cups and washing them. He handed her the glass of water he'd carried in, staring at her anxiously. With a sigh Beth set it down in the sink, shut off the spigot and turned to him. His voice rose in panic.

"Beth. Is she all right?"

"Yes."

He leaned against the counter releasing a sigh of relief.

"Al convinced her to get as far away as possible."

"Did she know what he was planning?"

"I don't know for sure. But it was difficult for Donna to stay here. Leaving was the best thing for her. She's on Martha's Vineyard right now."

A small smile played about his lips. "That's not surprising. She loves Martha's Vineyard," Sam murmured dreamily, remembering. "She always has."

They'd taken several vacations there. Donna especially loved it in the late fall and winter, when the days were grey and cold, the ocean wild, the beach meditative, the fireside cozy.

His thoughts quickly turned from the idyllic to the solemn. In one of his very first leaps he'd changed history in order to get Donna back into his life. He reunited her with her father so that maybe her deep wounds from his leaving the family would start to heal. So she could love and trust again…love and trust _him_. And now he had gone and done the thing she feared most – he'd abandoned her. Twice. He had no idea when or even if he would return home, and it really wasn't fair to keep her suffering the way Beth had, waiting for him, knowing that he was alive but that maybe he would never return to her. So many years of loneliness and hopelessness – it had to be unbearable for her, left alone while he continued leaping through time, bound to him by a marriage vow but eternally apart from him. Somehow he had to release her…

"Do you mind if I ask how you came to make the choice to keep leaping?"

He brought his attention back to Beth. "The first time I leaped as myself it was into a bar called Al's Place, on the day of my birth. Actually it was pretty much the exact moment of my birth," he said with a rueful laugh. "Al was the bartender and the owner. And everyone in the bar looked like people I'd met or leaped into on other leaps, but they had different names. Some had the same names as people from the project. And one of the men there…he was a leaper…he leaped out right before my eyes…and no one but me and the bartender remembered he'd been there. When Al found me, our Al I mean, and we talked I realized that this leaper was Al's uncle."

"That's…a coincidence."

"There were a lot of coincidences. The whole leap was so strange," he said distantly. "It was like a dream. Maybe I _was_ dreaming."

"It was in this leap that you made the decision?"

"Yes. That bartender seemed to know all about me, about Al, about the project. I thought he was the one leaping me around, or that he knew who was, that he could give me answers. At first he wouldn't. He just…played games with me. Then he finally told me that I was leaping me, that I could go home any time I wanted to but I had to accept that it was me, that it was my choice. He told me that I had done a lot of good and could do a lot more."

She was silent, absorbing his words. "So," she said finally, "he made it clear in not so many words that you could either go home knowing that there were countless people suffering that you might have been able to help but didn't, or you could keep leaping and helping those people but give up your chance to come home because there will always be just one more thing to put right."

"Yeah. That pretty much sums it up."

"That's some lousy choice you were offered, Sam."

The memory of the entire Cokeburg leap and each conversation he'd had with that bartender was as vivid as ever. "But it was my choice. And as Al…bartender Al…reminded me, it's why I created the project, why I wanted to leap. Because I wanted to make the world a better place. And he never actually said I couldn't go home."

Beth's eyes were compassionate and melancholy. "But I guess you'll never allow yourself to go home. Not for good anyway."

Sam dipped his head and stared at the floor, slowly beginning to shake his head. "This is my life now," he said quietly, "quantum leaping. Traveling through time…it's what I've always wanted. I'm doing it now and finally making a difference in the world instead of just theorizing and dreaming. It's not easy and it's lonely. Very lonely. But I guess that's the trade-off. Maybe it is a lousy choice. But…it's just the way it is." A rueful smile played about his lips as he heard himself repeating bartender Al's words.

"Well, I think you were already making a difference in the world before you ever leaped. It didn't involve time travel but you certainly made a difference in Al's life when you helped him. And mine. I don't know where we would have been if you hadn't stood up for him at Starbright, if you hadn't been a true friend helping him through one of the most difficult times in his life."

"The vending machine."

Keeping track of the various details that were altered with every timeline change was daunting but he was certain that Al was drunk and venting his rage on that same vending machine when they met in this timeline, too.

"And his drinking. Al was a mess when he came home from 'Nam and his recovery was not one continuous move forward. It never is. There were a lot of giant backward steps. And as the depression and night terrors got worse he self-medicated more and more. I did everything I could for him but I was too close to it. You made a huge difference, Sam. I don't think Al ever had a real best friend in his life until you, not someone like you who really cared and had his back no matter what. And you're a good friend to me, too," she said, taking his hand. "I guess I don't understand why it has to be a trade-off. Why can't you just come home in between leaps?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't believe it would really be any better for anyone if I came home for a short time but then disappeared into the ether again and again."

"But you're in control of when and where you leap."

"Up to a point but I'm not always on target. Like tonight. I leaped into your living room instead of the control room where Al is."

"Maybe you are on target tonight and you just assume you're not."

He smiled admiringly at her. Despite the dire situation and the shocking revelations of this night he'd enjoyed talking to Beth and she'd given him a little bit of a different perspective on things.

"So what will you do now?"

"I'm not sure. But I'll figure it out, Beth. I promise. Somehow I will make this right."

Things were out of hand and trying to halt them would be like closing the door after the horse was out of the barn. Best case scenario, Al was in hot water. Worst case, his friend had already stepped into the accelerator and leaped after him, assuming the accelerator hadn't killed him. Beth was right that he couldn't do a thing…in this present. But he wasn't here for that. He'd leaped here to talk to Beth, so he could learn and remember…and keep a promise that he made. He would leap back to a time when he could prevent it all from happening in the first place and convince Al that it was okay to let go…for Sam had accepted the life he'd chosen and had already let him go. Then he would somehow fix things with Donna, find a way to release her from the pain and anguish the way he'd done for Beth a long time ago. Even if it meant that he would lose her for good…

It was time to go. He took his leave of Beth Calavicci and leaped.


End file.
